


Tea leaves and gunpowder

by ChaoticHeroine



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticHeroine/pseuds/ChaoticHeroine
Summary: Inspired by the pictures of Sarah wearing Mrs. S's jacket. Canon compliant for the next 3 hours.





	Tea leaves and gunpowder

The night was too dark.

The house was too damn quiet.

Sarah felt like a lost little girl at every bump the night, every creak of the all too empty house.

Siobhan was a sentinel in this house, keeping watch over Sarah, Felix and Kira, but now her absence was so... _tangible_.

It felt wrong. Like there was a Siobhan shaped black hole in the home, and Sarah was trying her best not to get sucked in.

Briefly she contemplated leaving the house, sneaking to Bobbi's Bar for a drink or ten, and whatever else she could get her hands on. She just wanted to stop hurting. She hadn't even properly cried yet since they found her bod--

Since they found _her_.

She looked at peace, sitting in her favorite chair, gun beside her and her favorite picture of Sarah and Felix in her hand.

Sarah could picture Siobhan sitting there, scolding her after sneaking back into the house, half-wasted, half-hungover.

"Was that really the most constructive thing you could have done? Are you even thinking about Kira?" The ghost of Siobhan reprimands her. "You have to be there for her, love."

"Yeah well, you were supposer to be here for all of us, weren't you S?" Sarah snaps back to the empty air.

She sighs.

The worst thing is, she isn't mad because Siobhan wasn't there for them.

She is mad because she _was_.

She was the perfect mother, going off to fight battles so her kids didn't have to, and damn her for it.

Sarah threw her fist into the wall beside of her and immediately regretted it, because the coat rack to the side of it crashed to the floor.

Loudly.

"Shit." She muttered to herself. She went to pick up the coat rack and found herself frozen as she touched the jacket that was on top.

Dark heavy denim, lined with plaid that came up over the sleeves. It was hers.

Sarah reverently picked it up, like she was afraid that it would disappear. She held it to her cheek, and breathed in. It smelled of tea leaves and gunpowder.

Sarah slid down the wall, holding the jacket tightly.

Her eyes welled with tears.

"Mum." She breathed "Why'd you have to go and be a hero? Why didn't you ask for help?"

Sarah knows what the response would have been, had she not been talking to an empty room.

"You would have done the same thing, _chicken_."

Sarah covers herself with the weight of the jacket and just let's herself sit and cry and grieve the only mother she ever had.


End file.
